"You must be a stranger," he said. "This is our very notable Vertilgungsverein."
I understood: it was a Club for Mutual Extermination.
I then noticed that there were no ordinary targets, and that the cadets were pointing their rifles at a bearded man who stood with a covered pipe in his mouth, leaning against a tree some two hundred yards away.
After the report the bearded man held up both hands.
"That is to signify that he has been completely missed," said the fat gentleman. "One hand, wounded; two hands, missed. And that is reasonable (vernünftig), because if he were dead he could not raise either."
I approved the admirable logic of the rule, and supposed that the man would now be allowed to go free.
"Oh yes, according to the rules," he answered, "he certainly is allowed to go free; but I do not think his sense of honour would permit him so to do."
"Is he then of very noble family?" I inquired.
"Not at all; he is a scientist. We have a great many scientists in our club. They are all so disappointed at the way in which human progress has been impeded, and at the impossibility of a continuous evolution of knowledge-accumulation, that they find no more attraction in life. And he is dead this time," he continued, shading his eyes to look, as soon as a second report had flashed.
"By the way," I asked, "I suppose you only exterminate—er—members of the club?"